by Eden Beck
She wants a modern fairytale, not Grimm’s.
“Sabrina,” Rory starts, but I can hear that gruffness in his voice again, and I quickly move to stand slightly between the two of them.
I shoot Rory a look that shuts him up faster than anything I could say.
“Sabrina.” When I say her name, I say it softly. Carefully. “We’re not stringing you along, I promise. We’re just trying to be realistic.”
Sabrina throws back her head and laughs, but there’s no humor in it.
“Realistic?” Her voice comes out cracked and broken. “How on Earth is any of this realistic?”
She waves her arms around her at the night air, at the forest, at us.
“You’re wolf shifters. There’s nothing realistic about you.”
Rory, Kaleb, and I share a glance—and now it’s our turn to burst into laughter.
“What?” she snaps at us, her foot tapping impatiently on the ground. “What is it? What’s so funny?”
It takes me a minute to be able to splutter between my gasps for air.
“It’s funny,” I say, sounding like a maniacal crazy person, “because it’s true.”
Another moment later, I manage to compose myself enough to straighten back up. This time, when I reach to rest one hand on Sabrina’s shoulder, she doesn’t flinch away. She still pulls back a bit, but I see it as an improvement.
“I’m sorry, I … we … sometimes it’s easy to forget how different our world is from everyone else’s.” From yours.
Just the thought, the single string of words played over in my own mind, sobers me all of a sudden.
And all of a sudden, I see the dark clearing as she sees it.
Strange. Foreign. Dangerous.
She must see it on my face, because her posture softens under my touch.
“See,” she whispers, “now, don’t you see?”
I nod ever so slightly. “Only a little.”
“See what?” Rory says, a little too loud over my shoulder.
Even though Sabrina doesn’t roll her eyes, I imagine the urge can’t be easy to suppress.
“You can’t see how all this must look to me. How the things you keep telling me, what Lydia said tonight, it’s not … it’s not okay.”
Her face scrunches up a bit. “That doesn’t begin to sum it up. I just … I can’t find the right words.”
She stamps her foot in the dark, and though I know she means it out of frustration, it’s just so god-damned adorable that I want to sweep her up in my arms and kiss her.
The fact that I can’t makes the animal in me ache.
“What is it you want from me?” she whispers into the silence. “Can’t you just break the bond and go find someone else. Someone … better suited?”
I wait for Kaleb to answer impulsively, or for Rory to spout some honest, if rather blunt, truth.
But neither of them does. Instead, they both—then all three—look to me.
My hand trails down Sabrina’s shoulder, tracing the outline of her arm until I’m able to gently take her hand. I lift it to my face, closing my eyes as I nuzzle into it. I take in the scent of her, one long lungful of it.
“We couldn’t do that even if we wanted to,” I say, the words coming slow and breathy. “And that isn’t what we want.”
“Then what is?”
I squeeze her hand. “To be with you as long as we can. As long as you’ll have us.”
When I open my eyes again, Sabrina is looking up into my face. I expect to see frustration, rage, even hatred there after everything we told her tonight. But all I see is a girl with full, parted lips and eyes no longer shining with tears.
No, now they’re shining with something else.
Desire.
The pull between us suddenly becomes so overwhelming, I fear it’s going to swallow me whole.
My voice breaks.
“We can’t be with you in the traditional pack sense,” I say, quietly. “But we can be with you, somehow. Some way.”
I press my lips into her palm, feeling the smoothness of her skin against mine. “We just have to take it one day at a time.”
Rory steps up behind us in the darkness, and when he reaches for Sabrina, she closes her eyes and lets his hand run along the line of her collarbone.
“It won’t be easy, but we have to give it a try.”
“If you’ll let us,” Kaleb finishes. He too steps up, but he isn’t able to keep his distance.
He sweeps Sabrina up off her feet, lifting her up above him with a startled, muffled cry as he spins her once around. His face, turned up beseechingly into hers, is so overwhelmed with puppy-love that none of us, not even Sabrina, can keep from chuckling.
“Fine!” Sabrina squeals, kicking her feet out and meeting nothing but air. “Fine, fine … we’ll give it a try. But only if you put me down right. Now.”
I’ve never heard Kaleb laugh the way he does now. It’s pure, unadulterated joy.
Exactly how I feel.
Even if I know, deep down in the pit in my stomach that never fully goes away, that this can’t last the way it is now … that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy this now.
Not when I know that when this inevitably comes to an end, I’ll never feel anything like it again.
28
Sabrina
I’m a fool for staying, for even listening.
But I’m a happy fool.
It’s probably because I’m just so tired of running, so tired of starting over that I can’t bring myself to hate them for being honest with me. We might be different—so different we’re not even technically the same species—but that doesn’t mean we can’t come to an understanding.
An understanding that, for now, things don’t have to change. They can stay the way they are. I know it won’t last forever … but a small part of me is holding on to the hope that when things change, as they always do, it will be for the better.
Even if it doesn’t … I always knew I’d have to run eventually. I always knew I’d end up leaving this place behind, and them with it. I just didn’t expect just the thought of that, just the idea, to hurt so bad.
But for now, I push those thoughts away. I have to enjoy what I have here, now, in front of me.
Rory. Marlowe. Kaleb.
I don’t deserve them, really. Maybe that’s why I’m stuck in the purgatory with them to begin with.
Civilizations class on Monday is a far cry from what it was before. There’s an entirely new dynamic now as Rory and I work on our project together. Little did I know when I chose lycanthropes as our project focus, that my partner would actually be one. Or at least, as close to one as a person can actually get.
It makes me wonder if a little subconscious part of me had suspicions all along.
The visual is the last component that we need to agree on. We’ve been putting things off for the last couple weeks, letting ourselves slip into a lazy haze of afternoons spent between the three of us down by the river or in the forest, and evenings spent up at the mansion. At least, most nights. One full moon has passed since they told me about their … affliction … but I’ve yet to learn much more about their actual transformation.
They always disappear for a couple days before it happens.
And so far, every time I bring the subject up again, it’s like a storm cloud passes over us. I’ve taken to avoiding the subject as much as possible.
Up until today.
“You could always shift into a wolf in front of the class, that would be a really freaking impressive visual,” I laugh, after shooting down the last—admittedly very dull—idea he had.
Rory reflexively tries to quiet me by grabbing my thigh beneath the table.
“Sorry,” he says through gritted teeth. “Yeah, that would definitely be a show they wouldn’t forget. Probably not a good idea though.”
I nod my head in agreement, but honestly the only thing I can think about is his hand resting so dangerously close to the area between my thighs that
all the blood is now quickly rushing to.
We draw a few rushed glances our way, and I quickly duck my face to hide the flush.
“Sorry,” I whisper to him, knowing I need to be less reckless with what I say when we’re out in public. Sometimes I’m really embarrassed by how oblivious I can be. It’s a trait that reminds me of how my mother sometimes behaves, and as much as I love her, I’m not fond of that particular characteristic.
“No need to apologize,” Rory says gently. He seems like a completely different guy than when I first met him. It’s just like Marlowe warned me—he was just being protective. Back then, that meant protecting his family from me. Now … now I guess he’s protecting me too. “It’s all a lot to take in, I get it. We all get it. Hell, you’ve taken it better than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Have you guys told lots of girls about your wolfish-nature?” I ask, trying to make it sound as though I don’t really care if they have. But actually, I feel a huge wave of jealousy getting ready to pummel me if he says I’m just one of a long list of girls they’ve “bonded” with.
Rory’s hand moves up my leg, intentionally, and he squeezes my leg as he wraps his fingers inside the meat of my thigh.
“Did you listen to anything we told you that night at the party?” His voice is more desperate than it is condescending. “There’s never been anyone like you, not to us. We’ve never told any other girl who we are, what we are. Only you.”
That flush of blood burns hotter through every vein in my body. My lips part, letting out a little, heady breath, only to be cut off by a sudden shadow over my shoulder.
The Civilizations teacher makes a loud clearing sound in her throat and taps her knuckle against the top of our table, her eyes not dropping to meet either of ours.
I guess he must have noticed how closely Rory was pressing up to me as we’ve been talking. It’s not like he wanted the whole class to hear us talking about him being a werewolf, although I’m sure we could have played it off as part of our project if it really came down to it.
Now, I notice Rory’s eyes turn a shade darker as he turns to look up at our teacher, and I suddenly realize that his canine nature is kicking in. He’s being protective, and even more than that—possessive. Much too possessive than the current situation warrants.
I don’t even think he can control it.
I react without thinking and throw my hand onto his lap under the table to grab his leg and get him to back down. It works. Rory immediately breaks his gaze with the teacher, who continues to walk on toward another desk of high schoolers who are likewise displaying affection he deems inappropriate for the classroom.
Rory’s gaze flickers over to mine, and it’s a second before I realize my hand is still on his lap. I start to pull it back as if I accidentally touched a hot stove without thinking, but before I can, he puts the palm of his other hand over mine and keeps it firmly in place. Rory leans in even closer to me, so close that I think he’s about to kiss me.
“Only you,” he says, the teacher’s brief interruption completely forgotten. His face lingers near mine for a minute longer and I can feel the heat of my hand pressed against him. I’m not sure which one of us is emanating the heat; probably him since he’s a wolf and all, but honestly, I am so ravenously wanting to taste his lips right now that my own heat must be mingling with his now.
What am I going to do about this? I can feel myself falling for him, and he’s not even human.
After school, Rory gives me a ride home and waits outside in the car just long enough for me to leave mom a note. I’m lucky that we have this project to work on, else it’d be hard to brush off these frequent visits up to the Gray house without arousing her suspicion.
Not that she’d really notice. Ever since that night of the party, she’s seemed preoccupied with something of her own.
Rory waits outside in the car as I scribble a quick message on the stack of Post-It notes by the fridge. Mom must still be at work because the little cabin is empty. Come to think of it, she must be pulling extra shifts again because I haven’t seen her at home very much since even before Romulus’ birthday celebration.
At first, I thought she was just trying to give me some space to settle in. Now I’ve started to wonder if she’s up to something herself.
Well, good.
I know she’s struggled with the frequent moving as much as I have. I might not be able to stay with the boys forever, but for now … for now it feels good to settle in.
“Hurry up!” Rory calls from the driveway. A mischievous grin usually reserved for the likes of Marlowe has spread across his face. “We’ve got the place to ourselves for a bit … but my parents are going to be back eventually.”
My hand fumbles with the key in the lock, my muscles unable to move normally with him looking at me like that.
When I hop back into the car, Rory asks how my mom is doing and I answer honestly.
“I don’t know,” I say. Because I don’t.
So much for being worried about her finding out about us too soon. The way things are going, we’ll be celebrating our six-month anniversary before I have to bring it up again.
Just the thought makes me feel a flood of mixed emotions.
Careful now, don’t get ahead of yourself. Six months is a long time. Not too long ago the thought of staying any place, let alone North Port, for six months seemed like an impossibility.
And that was before I started falling for three werewolves and found myself in an even more impossible situation.
When we pull into the driveway at the top of the hill, Rory jumps out and meets me on the passenger side to open my door as I’m still getting my backpack up from the floor of the car. He doesn’t move as I scoot to the edge of my seat to get out. Instead, he stands closely against the open door with one arm above him and his hand against the top of the car.
I’m very much aware of how close thing brings us.
“Need any help with anything?” he asks as he leans in, his heat radiating off him in the enclosed space.
The small amount of space between us seems as if it’s charged with electricity that’s pulling us closer together. I can see the lines of his muscular chest beneath his T-shirt and I want to reach out and touch him so badly that I feel my hand starting to rise toward him all on its own. He pushes himself against the car more as if he understands my urge.
“Sabrina!” Kaleb shouts from behind him, breaking the spell. “Glad you’re here, Marlowe and I were beginning to think that you guys got too caught up in that stupid project of yours. Staying after school doesn’t mean you have to be there for hours. Rory move,” he says as he pushes his brother out of the way.
Rory growls at him but Kaleb ignores it. Instead, Kaleb reaches his massively buff arms inside the car and scoops them both under my backside and behind my back before I have a chance to protest. Next thing I know, I’m being lifted right out of the car. Kaleb has his arms around me, giving me no choice but to lean contently against his chest as he carries me up to the house.
I can see from over his shoulder that Rory has grabbed my backpack with a disgruntled look on his face.
“Why am I getting carried?” I giggle as he sways me from side to side.
“Because I had to hold you,” Kaleb answers, grinning. “It was either this, or I throw you to the ground and crawl on top of you.”
I feel my cheeks flush and my thighs clamp together at the thought of Kaleb climbing over me. He feels the pressing of my thighs too and laughs. He turns his head toward me and tips his nose against mine to lift my face before kissing me square on the mouth. He stops walking and holds me in place as I reach my hands up to hold his face while he kisses me.
Oh god, I’m falling for Kaleb too.
“Well, I guess there’s no hiding the energy of another full moon mounting,” I hear Lydia say in the background as she laughs in her light and airy voice. “What is it now, Kaleb, three more days?”
I squirm in Kaleb’s grasp unt
il he’s finally forced to break the kiss, and I get a glimpse of Lydia in the doorway.
“Sorry,” I splutter, “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
Lydia just lets out a knowing laugh as Kaleb grins even wider and smothers me in another kiss.
“You two coming in?” Lydia asks. “Or should I have dinner brought out?”
But Kaleb doesn’t answer her, instead he starts walking again and I wonder how he can even see where he’s going with our faces locked together.
29
Sabrina
Under any other circumstances, the boys’ behavior would leave me crawling with embarrassment. But there’s a different feel to intimacy with them then I expected. Even Romulus and Lydia, as proper as they appear at first glance, are no strangers to displaying an almost animalistic attraction to each other. It must be the wolf in them.
“Where are we?” I ask once Kaleb finally sets me down.
Though he didn’t insist on kissing me blind the whole way, it was sometimes hard to keep up with exactly where he was taking me. It didn’t help that this whole house is basically a maze of twists and turns.
We’ve found ourselves in a room that I haven’t seen before. It looks like a library, but the books are more like ancient grimoires and leather-bound anthologies than novels.
“This is my favorite library in the house,” he says, stepping away while I find my footing again. We’re alone here. Alone, I realize, for quite possibly the first time ever.
“You have more than one library in this place?”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I think there were five last time I looked. Romulus is something of a collector.”
“And why’s this one your favorite?”
“Because it has a lot of our history in here.” Kaleb reaches for a large book on one of the higher shelves. Its binding is laced with leather cording, the cover a surprising shade of teal. “This one,” he says, “is all about our rituals and ceremonies, like the one coming up.”
I look at him inquisitively and he turns to face me with the open book in his hand.
